UMS Concert Program, October 27, 1991: University Musical Society --

Season: 113th
Concert: Ninth
Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan

UNIVERSITY MUSICAL SOCIETY
ARLEEN AUGER
Soprano STEVEN BLIER, Pianist
Sunday Afternoon, October 27, 1991, at 4:00 Hill Auditorium, Ann Arbor, Michigan
Der Knabe (Friedrich Schlegel), D. 692 Franz Schubert
1m Friihling (Ernst Schulze), D. 882 (1797-1878)
Wehmut (Matthaus von Collin), D. 772
Gretchen am Spinnrade (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe), D. 118
Friihlingsglaube (Johann Ludwig Uhland), D. 686
Ganymed (Johannes Wolfgang von Goethe), D. 544
Four Mignon Songs (Goethe) Hugo Wolf
Heiss mich nicht reden (1860-1903)
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt So lasst mich scheinen Kennst du das Land
INTERMISSION
Sure on this shining night (James Agee), Samuel Barber
Op. 13, No. 2 (1910-1981)
Sleep now (James Joyce), Op. 10, No. 2 Nocturne (Frederic Prokosch), Op. 13, No. 4
Four Songs on Emily Dickinson texts Aaron Copland
Going to Heaven (1900-1990)
Heart, we will forget him Why do they shut me out of heaven There came a wind like a bugle
Snake (Theodore Roethke) Ned Rorem
The Silver Swan (Orlando Gibbons) (b. 1923)
The Nightingale (about 1500 A.D.) Rain in Spring (Paul Goodman) Early in the Morning (Robert Hillyer) A Birthday (Christina Rossetti)
The Serpent (Theodore Roethke) Lee Hoiby
(b. 1926)
The Musical Society wishes to thank Richard LeSueur lor this afternoon's Philips Pre-concert Presentation.
Arleen Auger is represented by Columbia Artists Management Inc., New York City.
Steven Blier plays the Steinway piano available through Hammell Music, Inc., Livonia.
The box office in the outer lobby is open during intermission for tickets to upcoming Musical Society concerts.
Ninth Concert of the 113th Season 113th Annual Choral Union Series
Program Texts and Translations
FRANZ SCHUBERT
Der Knabe, D. 692 (Schlegel)
Wenn ich nur ein Vdglein ware,
Ach, wie wollt ich lustig fliegen,
Alle Vogel weit besiegen.
Wenn ich so ein Vogel bin
Darf ich alles haschen
Und die hochsten Kirschen naschen.
Fliege dann zur Mutter hin.
1st sie bos in ihrem Sinn,
Kann ich lieb mich an sie schmiegen,
Ihren Ernst gar bald besiegen.
Bunte Federn, leichte Flugel
Durft ich in der Sonne schwingen,
Dass die Liifte laut erklingen,
Weiss nichts mehr von Band und Ziigel.
War ich iiber jene Hiigel,
Ach, dann wollt ich lustig fliegen,
Alle Vogel weit besiegen.
Im Friihling (Schulze)
Still sitz ich an des Hiigels Hang,
Der Himmell ist so klar,
Das Luftchen spielt im griinen Tal,
Wo ich beim ersten Friihlingasstrahl
Einst, ach so gliicklich war;
Wo ich an ihrer Seite ging
So traulich und so nah,
Und tief im dunklen Felsenquell
Den schcinen Himmel blau und hell,
Und sie im Himmel sah.
Sieh, wie der bunte Friihling schon
Aus Knosp und Bliite blickt!
Nicht alle Bluten sind mir gleich,
Am liebsten pfliickt ich von dem Zweig,
Von welchem sie gepfliickt!
Denn alles ist wie damals noch,
Die Blumen, das Gefild;
Die Sonne scheint nicht minder hell,
Nicht minder freundlich schwimmt im Quell
Das blaue Himmelsbild.
Es wandeln nur sich Will und Wahn,
Es wechseln Lust und Streit;
Voruber flieht der Liebe Gliick,
Und nur die Liebe bleibt zuriick,
Die Lieb und ach, das Leid!
O war ich doch ein Viiglein nur
Dort an dem Wiesenhang,
Dann blieb ich auf den Zweigen hier,
Und sang ein susses Lied von ihr,
Den ganzen Sommer lang.
The Boy
If only I were a bird,
Ah, how joyfully I would fly,
Far outstripping all other birds.
If I were a bird
I could get everything
And nibble the highest cherries.
Then I'd fly back to mother.
If she were angry
I could nestle sweetly up to her
And soon overcome her sternness.
Colored feathers, light wings,
I could flap them in the sunlight.
So that the air resounded loudly,
I would no longer be curbed and shackled.
If I were beyond those hills,
Ah, how joyfully I would fly,
Far outstripping all other birds.
In Spring
Silently, I sit on the hillside,
the heavens are so clear,
the breeze plays in the green valley,
where, in spring's first gleam,
I was once, ah, so happy.
Where at her side I walked,
so fondly and so close,
and, deep in the dark rocky stream,
saw the fair heavens blue and bright,
and in the heavens her too.
See, how gaily-colored spring
peeps from bud to blossom!
All blossom is not alike to me,
most gladly from that branch I'd pick
from which she once picked.
For all is still as once it was,
the flowers and the field;
no less brightly shines the sun,
and no less kindly in the stream
heaven's blue image floats.
Will and delusion, they only change,
joy alternates with quarrel,
happiness of love flies by,
and love alone remains,
love, and ah, the pain.
Oh, if only I were a tiny bird,
there on the meadow's bank,
then on these branches here I'd stay,
and sing a sweet song of her,
all the summer through.
Wehmut, D. 772 (Collin)
Wenn ich durch Wald und Fluren geh',
es wird mir dann so wohl und weh
in unruhvoller Brust.
So wohl, so weh, wenn ich die Au
in ihrer Schtinheit Fiille schaif,
und all die Friihlingslust.
Denn was im Winde tonend weht,
was aufgeturmt gen Himmel steht,
und auch der Mensch, so hold vertraut
mit all' der Schonheit, die er schaut,
entschwindet und vergeht.
Gretchen am Spinnrade (Goethe)
Meine Ruh ist hin, Mein Herz ist schwer, Ich finde sie nimmer Und nimmermehr. Wo ich ihn nicht hab, Ist mir das Grab, Die ganze Welt Ist mir vergallt. Mein armer Kopf Ist mir verriickt, Mein armer Sinn Ist mir zerstuckt. Nach ihm nur schau ich Zum Fenster hinaus, Nach ihm nur geh ich Aus dem Haus. Sein hoher Gang, Sein' edle Gestalt, Seines Mundes Lacheln, Seiner Augen Gewalt. Und seiner Rede Zauberfluss, Sein Handedruck, Und ach, sein Kuss! Mein Busen drangt Sich nach ihm hin; Ach, diirft ich fassen Und halten ihn, Und kiissen ihn, So wie ich wollt, An seinen Kussen Vergehen sollt!
Friihlingsglaube, D. 686 (Uhland)
Die linden Liifte sing erwacht,
Sie sauseln und weben Tag und Nacht,
Sie schaffen an alien Enden.
O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang!
Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang!
Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden.
Melancholy
When I walk through wood and field,
so happy then I feel and sad
in my restless heart.
So happy, so sad, when I see
the meadow in its full beauty,
and all the joy of spring.
For what blows sonorous in the wind,
what stands towering to heaven,
and man too, so familiar
with all the beauty that he sees,
vanishes and dies.
Gretchen at the Spinning-wheel
My peace is gone,
my heart is sore,
never shall I find
peace ever more.
Where he is not,
there is my grave,
all the world
to me is gall.
My poor head
is crazed,
my poor wits
destroyed.
Only for him I gaze
from the window,
only for him I go
from the house.
His superior walk,
his noble air,
his smiling mouth,
his compelling eyes.
And his words --
their magic flow,
the caress of his hand,
and ah, his kiss!
My heart craves
for him;
oh, to clasp
and to hold,
and kiss him,
just as I liked,
and in his kisses
pass away!
Spring Faith
Gentle breezes are awake,
murmuring, stirring night and day,
everywhere active, creative.
Oh fresh fragrance, oh new sounds!
Now, poor heart, be not afraid.
Now must all things, all things change.
Die Welt wird schoner mit jedem Tag, Man weiss nicht, was noch werden mag, Das Bliihen will nicht enden; Es bliiht das fernste, tiefste Tal: Nun, armes Herz, vergiss der Qual! Nun muss sich alles, alles wenden.
Ganymed, D. 544 (Goethe)
Wie im Morgenglanze
Du rings mich angliihst,
Friihling, Geliebter!
Mit tausendfacher Liebeswonne
Sich an mein Herz drangt
Deiner ewigen Warme
Heilig Gefuhl,
Unendliche Schone!
Dass ich dich fassen mocht
In diesen Arm!
Ach, an deinem Busen
Lieg ich, schmachte,
Und deine Blumen, dein Gras
Drangen sich an mein Herz.
Du kuhlst den brennenden
Durst meines Busens,
Lieblicher Morgenwind!
Ruft drein die Nachtigall
Liebend nach mir aus dem Nebeltal.
Ich komm, ich komme!
Wohin Ach, wohin
Hinauf! Hinanuf strebt's.
Es schweben die Wolken
Abwarts, die Wolken
Neigen sich der sehnenden Liebe.
Mir! Mir!
In euerm Schosse
Aufwarts!
Umfangend umfangen!
Aufwarts an deinen Busen,
Alliebender Vater!
Daily the world grows fairer,
what may yet come, we do not know,
to blooming there is no end;
the farthest, deepest valley blooms:
now, poor heart, forget your torment.
Now must all things, all things change.
Ganymede
How in the morning radiance
you glow upon me all around,
Spring, beloved!
With thousandfold love-bliss
to my heart presses itself
your eternal warmth's
sacred touch,
unending beauty!
That I might clasp you
in these arms!
Ah, at your bosom
I lie, languish,
and your flowers, your grass
press themselves to my heart.
You cool the burning
thirst of my bosom,
lovely morning wind!
The nightingale calls me
lovingly from the valley vale.
I come, I come!
Where Ah, where
Upwards! Upwards it strives.
The clouds float
downward, the clouds
bow themselves to longing love.
To me! To me!
In your lap,
Upwards!
Embracing embraced!
Upwards to your bosom,
All-loving Father!
HUGO WOLF Four Mignon Songs (von Goethe)
Heiss mich nicht reden
Heiss mich nicht reden, heiss' mich
schweigen
Denn mein Geheimnis ist mir Pflicht; Ich mochte dir mein ganzes Innre
zeigen,
Allein das Schicksal will es nicht. Zur rechten Zeit vertreibt der Sonne
Lauf Die finstre Nacht, und sie muss sich
erhellen;
Bid Me not Speak
Bid me not speak, bid me be
silent
for I am bound to secrecy; you would I show all that is
within,
but fate will not have it so. At the due time the sun's career
banishes dark night, and it must grow
light;
Der harte Fels schliesst seinen Busen auf, Missgonnt der Erde nicht die
tiefverborgnen Quellen. Ein jeder sucht im Arm des Freundes
Ruh, Dort kann die Brust in Klagen sich
ergiessen; Allein ein Schwur driickt mir die
Lippen zu, Und nur ein Gott vermag sie
aufzuschl lessen.
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt,
Weiss, was ich leide!
Allein und abgetrennt
Von aller Freude
Seh ich ans Firmament
Nach jener Seite.
Ach! der mich liebt und kennt,
1st in der Weite.
Es schwindelt mir, es brennt
Mein Eingeweide.
Nur wer die Sehnsucht kennt,
Weiss, was ich leide!
So lasst mich scheinen
So lasst mich scheinen, bis ich werde;
Zieht mir das weisse Kleid nicht aus!
Ich eile von der schonen Erde
Hinab in jenes feste Haus.
Dort ruh ich eine kleine
Stille,
Dann offnet sich der frische Blick; Ich lasse dann die reine Hiille, Den Giirtel und den Kranz zuriick. Und jene himmlischen Gestalten, Sie fragen nicht nach Mann und Weib, Und keine Kleider, keine Falten Umgeben den verklarten Leib. Zwar lebt ich ohne Sorg und Miihe, Doch fuhlt ich tiefen Schmerz genung. Vor Kummer altert ich zu fruhe -Macht mich auf ewig wieder jung!
Kennst du das Land
Kennst du das Land, wo die Zitronen
bliihn, im dunklen Laub die Goldorangen
gliihn, ein sanfter Wind vom blauen Himmel
weht, die Myrte still und hoch der Lorbeer
steht
the unyielding rock unlocks its bosom, Grudges not the earth her deep-hid
springs. Everyone, in a friend's arms, seeks
peace, there the heart can pour forth its
complaint; but an oath seals tight my
lips, a god alone can open
them.
Only One Who Knows Longing
Only one who knows longing
can understand what I suffer!
Alone and bereft
of all joy,
I look at the sky
yonder.
Ah, he who loves and understands me
is far away.
I faint. Fire burns
within me.
Only one who knows longing
can understand what 1 suffer!
So Let Me Seem
So let me seem, until 1 become so; do not divest me of my white garment! I am hastening from the beautiful earth down to that impregnable house. There I shall rest a little while in
tranquillity,
then a fresh vision will open up; I shall leave behind then the pure raiment, the girdle and the wreath. And those heavenly beings do not concern themselves with man and woman, and no garments, no robes, cover the transfigured body.
True, 1 have lived without trouble and toil, yet 1 have felt deep pain enough, Through sorrow I have aged too early -O make me forever young again!
Do You Know the Land
Do you know the land, where the
lemons blossom, the oranges glow golden amongst dark
leaves, a gentle wind blows from the blue
sky, the myrtle stands silent, the laurel
tall
Kennst du es wohl Dahin, dahin mocht ich mit dir, o mein Geliebter, ziehn!
Kennst du das Haus, auf Saulen ruht
sein Dach, es glanzt der Saal, es schimmert das
Gemach, Und Marmorbilder stehn und sehn
mich an: was hat man dir, du armes Kind,
getan
Kennst du es wohl Dahin, dahin mocht' ich mit dir, o mein Beschiitzer,
ziehn! Kennst du den Berg und seinen
Wolkensteg Das Maultier sucht im Nebel seinen
Weg, In Hohlen wohnt der Drachen alte
Brut, es stiirzt der Fels und iiber ihn die
Flut:
kennst du ihn wohl Dahin! dahin geht unser Weg; o Vater,
lass uns ziehn!
Do you know it There, there would I go with you, my
love! Do you know the house On pillars rests
its roof, its hall gleams, its apartment
shimmers, and marble statues stand and gaze at
me: What have they done to you, poor
child
Do you know it There, there would I go with you, my
protector! Do you know the mountain and its
cloudy path The mule seeks its way in the
mist, in caves the ancient brood of dragons
dwells, the rock falls sheer, and over it,
the flood;
do you know it There, there lies our way! O father,
let us go!
Songs by American Composers
SAMUEL BARBER
Sure on this shining night
Op. 13, No. 2 (Agee)
Sure on this shining night
Of star-made shadows round,
Kindness must watch for me
This side the ground.
The late year lies down the north.
All is healed, all is health.
High summer holds the earth.
Hearts all whole.
Sure on this shining night
1 weep for wonder, wand'ring far alone
Of shadows on the stars.
Sleep now, Op. 10, No. 2 (Joyce)
Sleep now, O sleep now,
O you unquiet heart!
A voice crying "Sleep now"
Is heard in my heart.
The voice of the winter
Is heard at the door.
O sleep, for the winter,
Is crying, "Sleep no more,
sleep no more, sleep no more" My kiss will give peace now And quiet to your heart Sleep on in peace now, O you unquiet heart!
Nocturne, Op. 13, No. 4 (Prokosch) Close my darling both your eyes, Let your arms lie still at last. Calm the lake of faslehood lies And the wind of lust has passed, Waves across these hopeless sands Fill my heart and end my day, Underneath your moving hands All my aching flows away. Even the human pyramids Blaze with such a longing now: Close, my love, your trembling lids, Let the midnight heal your brow. Northward flames Orion's horn, Westward th'Egyptian light. None to watch us, none to warn But the blind eternal night.
AARON COPLAND Four songs on texts by Emily Dickinson
Going to Heaven!
(To Lukas Foss)
A kind of spiritual that ends in disillusion.
The poet cannot believe in it but she
is glad that others did.
Going to Heaven!
I don't know when
Pray do not ask me how
Indeed I'm too astonished
To think of answering you.
Going to Heaven!
How dim it sounds.
And yet it will be done
As sure as flocks go home at night
Unto the shepherd's arm!
Perhaps you're going too!
Who knows
If you should get there first
Save just a little place for me
Close to the two I lost
The smallest "robe" will fit me
And just a bit of "crown"
For you know we do not mind our dress
When we are going home.
Going to Heaven!
I'm glad I don't believe it
For it would stop my breath
And I'd like to look a little more
At such a curious earth.
I'm glad they did believe it
Whom I have never found
Since the mighty autumn afternoon,
I left them in the ground.
Heart, we will forget him
(To Marcelle de Manziarly)
A love song but, as in Old Poem and
Poet's Song, sad with reminiscences.
Heart, we will forget him.
You and I, tonight.
You may forget the warmth he gave.
I will forget the light.
When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim
Haste, lest while you're lagging,
I may remember him.
Why do they shut me out of heaven
(To Ingolf Dahl)
A recitative with suggestions of blue notes.
Why do they shut me out of Heaven,
Did 1 sing too loud
But I can say a little minor,
Timid as a bird.
Wouldn't the angels try me
Just once more.
Just see if I troubled them,
But don't shut the door.
Oh, if I were the gentlemen
In the white robes
And they were the little hand that knocked,
Could 1 forbid
Why do they shut me out of Heaven,
Did I sing too loud
There came a wind like a bugle
(To Elliott Carter)
A stormy scene of terrifying intensity,
with church bells ringing.
There came a wind like a bugle
It quivered through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
So ominous did pass.
We barred the window and the doors
As from an emerald ghost
The doom's electric moccasin
That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees
And fences fled away.
And rivers where the houses ran
The living looked that day,
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the world.
NED ROREM
Snake (Roethke) I saw a young snake glide Out of the mottled shade And hang, limp on a stone: A thin mouth, and a tongue Stayed, in the still air. It turned: it drew away; Its shadow bent in half; It quickened and was gone. I felt my slow blood warm. I longed to be that thing, The pure, sensuous form. And I may be, some time.
The Silver Swan (Gibbons)
The silver swan, who living had no note,
When death approached unlocked her
silent throat;
Leaning her breast against the reedy shore, Thus sung her first and last,
and sung no more; Farewell, all joys; O death, come close
my eyes; More geese than swans now live,
more fools than wise.
The Nightingale (about 1500 A.D.) The little pretty nightingale Among the leaves so green Would I were with her all the night! But ye know not whom I mean, But ye know not whom I mean! The nightingale sat on a briar Among the thorns so keen And comforted my heart's desire But ye know not whom I mean, Ye know not whom I mean. It did me good on her to look; She was all clothed in green. Away from me her heart she took But ye know not whom I mean. "Lady," I cried with rueful moan, Mind ye how true I have been. For I loved but you alone Yet ye know not whom I mean, Yet ye know not whom I mean.
Rain in Spring (Goodman)
There fell a beautiful clear rain With no admixture of fog or snow And this was and no other thing The very sign of the start of Spring. Not the longing for a lover Nor the sentiment of starting over, But this clear and refreshing rain Falling without haste or strain.
Early in the Morning (Hillyer)
Early in the morning
Of a lovely summer day,
As they lowered the bright awning
At the outdoor cafe,
I was breakfasting on croissants
And cafe au lait
Under greenery like scenery,
Rue Franqois Premier.
They were hosing the hot pavement
With a dash of flashing spray
And a smell of summer showers
When the dust is drenched away.
Under greenery like scenery,
Rue Francois Premier.
I was twenty and a lover
And in Paradise to stay,
Very early in the morning
Of a lovely summer day.
A Birthday (Rossetti)
My heart is like a singing bird
Whose nest is in a watered shoot;
My heart is like an apple-tree
Whose boughs are bent with thick-set fruit;
My heart is like a rainbow shell
That paddles in a halcyon sea;
My heart is gladder than all these
Because my love is come to me.
Raise me a dais of silk and down;
Hang it with vair and purple dyes;
Carve it in doves and pomegranates,
And peacocks with a hundred eyes;
Work it in gold and silver grapes,
In leaves and silver fleurs-de-lys;
Because the birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.
About the Artists
American soprano Arleen Auger is acclaimed worldwide in re?cital, concert, recordings, and on the operatic stage. She has performed in over 50 major European and American festivals and has made 13 worldwide recital tours. Her collab?orations with conductors such as Abbado, Bernstein, Bohm, Chailly, Haitink, Hog-wood, Maazel, Masur, Muti, Ozawa, Pin-nock, Rattle, Solti, and Tennstedt, composers Ned Rorem and Libby Larsen, and pianists Misha Dichter, Murray Perahia, and Roger Vignoles continue to be lauded, as does the luminous quality of her voice and her superb musicianship.
Like several of America's most distin?guished singers, Miss Auger, who was born in Los Angeles, enjoyed her first major successes in Europe. Since her Vienna State Opera Debut as Queen of the Night in a 1967 production of The Magic Flute, she has be?come a familiar figure in the world's most prestigious concert halls and opera houses, including the Metropolitan Opera, La Scala, Vienna State Opera, Carnegie Hall, Avery Fisher Hall, the Concertgebouw, and Royal Festival Hall. In 1986, Miss Auger was seen by over 700 million television viewers as she sang Mozart's Exsukate, jubilate at the Royal Wedding of Britain's Prince Andrew and Miss Sarah Ferguson, the Duke and Duchess of York.
Arleen Auger's discography, ranging from Bach to Schoenberg, numbers over 170
recordings on more than ten labels and has been distinguished by awards including the Grand Prix du Disque, the Edison Prize, the Deutscher Schallplattenpreis, the Ovation Award, and Grammy nominations. Included in the discography are 40 albums of Bach cantatas and other sacred music with the renowned Bach specialist, Helmuth Rilling. Among Miss Auger's recent recording releases are Monteverdi's L'Incoronazione di Poppea with Hickox and the City of London Sinfonia (Virgin), Mozart's Mass in C Minor
LEE HOIBY
The Serpent (Roethke)
There was a Serpent who had to sing.
There was. There was.
He simply gave up Serpenting.
Because. Because.
He didn't like his Kind of Life;
He couldn't find a proper Wife;
He was a Serpent with a soul;
He got no Pleasure down his Hole.
And so, of course, he had to Sing,
And Sing he did, like Anything!
The Birds, they were, they were astounded;
And various Measures Propounded
To stop the Serpent's Awful Racket:
They bought a Drum. He wouldn't
Whack it.
They sent, -you always send, -to Cuba And got a Most Commodious Tuba; They got a Horn, they got a Flute, But Nothing would suit. He said, "Look, Birds, all this is futile: I do not like to Bang or Tootle." And then he cut loose with a Horrible Note That practically split the top of His Throat. "You see," he said, with a Serpent's Leer, "I'm serious about my Singing Career!" And the Woods Resounded with many a Shriek As the Birds flew off to the End of Next Week.
with Hogwood and the Academy of Ancient Music (Decca), Mozart's Don Giovanni with Oestman and the Drottningholm Opera Or?chestra and Chorus (Decca), The Complete Songs of Franz Schubert Vol IX with pianist Graham Johnson (Hyperion), and Haydn's Creation with Rattle and the City of Birming?ham Symphony Orchestra (EMI). Due to be released are Mozart's Mass in C Minor and Exsultate, jubilate with Leonard Bernstein and the Bavarian Radio Orchestra (DGG), Handel's Orlando with Hogwood and the Academy of Ancient Music (Decca), and Mozart's Mass in C Minor with Abbado and the Berlin Philharmonic (Sony).
Arleen Auger began her 1991-92 sea?son performing Mozart's Requiem in Philadel?phia and Carnegie Hall with The Philadelphia Orchestra conducted by Riccardo Muti, and next month (November 21, 22, 23), she returns to our area to sing an all-Mozart program with the Detroit Sym?phony Orchestra conducted by Raymond Leppard. She is featured in an all-Mozart program of chamber music with Murray Per-ahia at Carnegie Hall and in Chicago, Vi?enna, Paris, and London, and also performs chamber works with the Chamber Music Society of Lincoln Center. The 92nd Street "Y" presents Miss Auger in recital with pianist Warren Jones as she begins a recital tour of the southern United States presenting a pro?gram of American music. She then joins Michael Tilson Thomas and the New World Symphony Orchestra in Miami to perform Copland's Emily Dickinson Songs.
Also this season, Miss Auger performs with orchestras in Birmingham, London, Hamburg, Salzburg, Vienna, Zurich, Mu?nich, Stuttgart, and Bonn, and gives recitals in Italy, Belgium, Germany, Finland, and Switzerland, among others. On December 5, 1991, Miss Auger sings Mozart's Requiem with the Vienna Philharmonic conducted by Sir Georg Solti in a concert that commemorates the exact 200th anniversary of Mozart's death. Finally, Miss Auger rounds out her season with a tour of the Far East for song recitals and performances in Japan with the NHK Orchestra.
Ann Arbor concertgoers remember Ar-leen Auger's Ann Arbor debut in 1987, when she sang Mozart's Exultate, jubilate and in Beethoven's Ninth Symphony with Kurt Masur and the Leipzig Gewandhaus Orches?tra. She now gives her first Ann Arbor recital.
Steven Blier is an eminent accom?panist and vocal coach, whose ca?reer has taken him to the stages of Carnegie Hall, the Ravinia Festi?val, Israel's Jerusalem Festival, and Avery Fisher Hall for the Mostly Mozart Festival. Among the many artists he has partnered in recital are Evelyn Lear, Thomas Stewart, Catherine Malfitano, John Cheek, and Roberta Peters. In the current season, he makes his first appearances with Maureen Forrester, Arleen Auger, and June Anderson. He has also assisted such artists as Luciano Pavarotti and Joan Morris in their musical preparation for orchestral engagements.
Mr. Blier is founder and co-artistic director of the New York Festival of Song. The Festival's second season opened in Sep?tember 1989 with the United States premiere of Leonard Bernstein's last work, Arias and Barcarolles, which was broadcast by National Public Radio. Their recording of this work for Koch International Classics won a 1991 Grammy Award. Two of his concerts from the 1990-91 season were also taped by NPR: "Unquiet Peace," featuring songs of Zemlinsky, Eisler, and Weill, with soprano Cyndia Sieden, and "Ticket to Ride," de?voted to the songs of Lennon and McCartney, sung by Marsha Hunter and Brian Kent.
One of Mr. Blier's primary musical collaborations has been his long-term part?nership with baritone William Sharp. High?lights of their musical teamwork have included taking first prize in the Carnegie Hall American Music Competition in Sep?tember 1987, their Carnegie Hall recital debut in February 1989, and a 1990 Grammy Award nomination for their debut recital album on New World Records. Their record?ings also include discs of songs by Bernstein, Gershwin, and Blitzstein. Mr. Blier's sched?uled releases for this year are recordings of Ives, Pfitzner, Schoeck, and Busoni with Mr. Sharp, South American songs with the 1985 Naumberg Award winner Christopher Trakas, and two albums of British songs with Glen Siebert.
Music consultant for this year's Richard Tucker Gala Concert at Avery Fisher Hall, in its first all-American music program, he will also be pianist for Samuel Ramey and Dolora Zajick that evening.
Mr. Blier first came to prominence as accompanist and arranger for the noted cab?aret singer Martha Schlamme. His repertoire
extends to a solo program of ragtime, blues, and stride piano pieces by composers ranging from Copland to Eubie Blake. His renditions of William Bolcom's Ghost Rags were broad?cast by NPR, and the Canadian Broadcasting Company televised his performance of music by James P. Johnson this past summer. A champion of American music, he has pre?miered works by Aaron Kernis, Bolcom, Lee Hoiby, and John Musto.
Teaching has taken Steven Blier to the Aspen Music Festival and the Chautauqua Festival. He has also given master classes at colleges and music festivals across the coun?try. Just last week, he conducted a master class on American Song Literature at the Manhattan School of Music during faculty member Marlena Kleinman Malas' Third An?nual Malas Classes; other master teachers were Warren Jones and Stephen Wadsworth.
Currently on the faculty of the State University of New York at Purchase, Mr. Blier, a native New Yorker, completed his undergraduate degree at Yale University, where his teacher was Alexander Farkas. After graduating with an Honors Degree in English Literature, he continued his studies at Juilliard with Martin Isepp.
The pianist now makes his Ann Arbor debut in partnership with Arleen Auger.